


The Dogfather

by starspangledmeatball



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 14:09:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12170448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starspangledmeatball/pseuds/starspangledmeatball





	The Dogfather

The air was cold and heavy with no wind as if the entire village was holding its breath. Nobody dared to leave their homes this late at night. They all heard the explosion from the house at the end of Nightshade Lane and at this time of night it was too dangerous to go investigate. Not that it was likely for anyone to survive. The ruins of the house were strewn onto the street and the nearby lamp posts had been blown out. The others flickered and buzzed giving the street an all around eerie feel.

A lone man stood in front of the house, stock still. In one hand he gripped his wand and the other hung loosely at his side. His handsome face was twisted with grief and his eyes, puffy from crying were hidden by long, black locks. He had been out on a work assignment and was late. If only he had been here…

A shrill cry cut through the air causing the man to inhale sharply. He stumbled over the threshold, his leather boots kicking up rubble and abandoned halloween candy in shiny, silver wrappers. He froze when he saw the body of a man, slung back on the stairs. Bile rose up in his throat but he forced himself to move past the corpse of the man who might as well have been his brother.

The ceiling was caved in and shattered in the middle of the living room was a crib. The second body, a woman with fiery hair, still stark and full of color against the dark room was slung over the bars.

In the center of the wreckage was a baby. His face was screwed up in pain and he wailed, blood from an open wound on his forehead trickled into his eyes. His lion halloween costume was shredded and filthy from the explosion. Acting quickly, he pulled off his cloak and wrapped the baby up.

"It's okay, Harry," he murmured, wiping the blood off the baby's face with the corner of the cloak. "It's okay. I've got you. I've got you."

How could he have let Peter be the secret keeper? That little rat sold them out! Well, now Voldemort was dead.

"Hello, Sirius," said a deep voice.

He turned around and saw a man about eight feet tall in a large overcoat crookedly sewn together. His bushy mane was wild and he kept sniffling.

"Hello, Hagrid," said Sirius.

"I got an assignment from Dumbledore," said Hagrid. "Got to take Harry with me and bring him to his aunt's house."

Petunia Dursley? Dumbledore couldn't be serious. Petunia Dursley was one of the worst people he'd ever had the displeasure of meeting. A better name for her would've been Spider Plant or Cactus. She hated her sister and would surely hate Harry too. He couldn't let that happen. He was the only family Harry had left.

"I can't let you do that Hagrid," said Sirius. "Voldemort's dead. The safest place for Harry is with me and I'm not letting anyone take him away from me. If Dumbledore wants this kid, he'll have to pry him from my cold dead hands."

"Sirius, surely you don' mean that," said Hagrid, aghast. "Who knows better than Dumbledore?"

"When it comes to my godson, I do!" Sirius snapped. "I'll take him far away. Somewhere that rat Pettigrew will never find him!"

"What does Pettigrew have ter do with this?" Hagrid asked sorrow replaced by sheer confusion.

"I was never the Potters' secret keeper, Hagrid," Sirius murmured. "I should've been because maybe then I'd be dead and not James. Not Lily…"

Without giving Hagrid another glance, Sirius strode over to his motorcycle and rested Harry into the sidecar, casting a protective spell to keep him inside. Ignoring the chill in the air and the hole in his heart, he mounted his bike and switched it on, taking off into the night, the roaring engine drowned out Hagrid's shouts of protest. Once they were in the sky did the tears flowed freely down Sirius's cheeks. He released an anguished wail that was carried away by the wind.

Harry was lulled to sleep by the rumble of the engine and slept peacefully. The scar on his brown forehead, fresh but the blood flow still, was in the shape of a lightning bolt. The exact wand motion for the Killing Curse. Harry was the only known survivor of this curse in all of history. With everything going to shit, Sirius wanted to make sure that he got Harry somewhere safe. Any remaining fanatics might go looking for him. Anything as a last vengeance for their master. Peter might just mosey along and finish the job, the little traitor. If Sirius ever saw his face again— no… no. Think of Harry. Nothing good could come from him going to prison and leaving his best friend's son all alone in this world.

The two of them flew all night until the sky began to lighten with the coming dawn. Sirius had flown south to France. It was safe a place as any until the heat died down and the murderous bigots were either in prison or stamped down their hatred due to it being unacceptable in civilized society.

Unable to hold his head up any longer, Sirius landed on the nearest road and stopped in the next town. He and the baby must've looked like quite a sight in their tattered things. The wizard parked in a local lot and went into the nearest baby store where things that were impossibly tiny were stacked on little, neat shelves. The young woman running the counter eyed him warily but she visibly softened when she saw what he was cradling.

"I need clothes for him," said Sirius, throat dry and voice croaky. "Bottles… blankets… I'll take one of those car seats, too, a parenting book and… whatever else a baby needs. I'm good for it." Lily helped him invest in some stocks and he had a credit card which he only used to fill up gas in his bike for the past four years so he had a bit of credit built up and some money in the bank.

"What happened to him?" the lady asked. Her name tag read Saorise.

"There was an… accident," Sirius muttered. "Couldn't save his parents… everything is gone."

"Oh… wee lamb."

Harry sniffled and woke up and began to cry. Sirius panicked as soon as he smelled the cause of the baby's discomfort. He knew how to change a diaper thanks to babysitting but it was still disgusting. Even so… he wasn't going to let this kid wallow in his own shit.

"Do you have a changing station?" Sirius asked.

"Just in the ladies' room."

What? There were plenty of single fathers certainly they would have changing stations in this room.

"Well then I guess I'll have to use that one," he said. "What sort of diapers do you recommend?"

A couple hours later, Sirius was sitting on the bed in a Bed&Breakfast with Harry cradled between his legs. The kid nearly rolled off the edge twice and didn't want to stay put in the car seat and the carpet was iffy when it came to dust. Merlin, he was already sounding like a fretting mother. More than his mother ever did. Sirius made a vow right then. Harry was going to have the freedom to express himself.

SHIT!

Sirius dropped the parenting book and dragged Harry away from the edge of the bed. It wouldn't do for the kid to get another scar.

They couldn't live in this place. Sirius had no plans on letting Harry near Grimmauld Place and he already cancelled the lease on his London flat. Surely there would be a place here he could live at.

\---

The flat was small but clean. It had a kitchen, a living room and two bedrooms. Harry didn't fare well in his own room, perhaps from the memory of Halloween he was afraid of being exposed. Sirius made it home as much as he could.

These past two months he learned a lot about babies. He learned a lot about how much they cried, how much they pooped, and how they hated baby food. And the teething. Oh, Merlin, the teething. Still… there were moments that made it all worth it. Like when Harry looked at Sirius and squealed happily, "Dog! Dog, dog, dog!"

The warm feeling in his chest made all the sleepless nights worth it.

Sirius didn't receive any word from Britain until Christmas. Little Harry was cooing with delight as he toddled after the large, black dog that had a twine of popcorn around his neck. A Christmas Tree stood in the corner with a few sad ornaments on the droopy branches.

A cream-colored owl tapped on the window and fluffed up its feathers from the bitter cold. Sirius morphed back into a human and opened the window. The bird had a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and a letter. Feeding it some jerky, he unrolled the newspaper.

**Hunt for Sirius Black and Harry Potter Continues**

Narrowing his eyes, Sirius tore open the letter and recognized the handwriting of his good friend Remus Lupin.

_Sirius,_

_I don't know where you are but you need to come back to Britain with Harry. Dumbledore is furious you took him and there's talk of you being a murderer and a traitor. There are plenty of nasty rumors about you killing Harry. How could you do it my dear friend? How could you betray your best friend?_

Not bothering to read anymore, Sirius grabbed some parchment and a crayon since it was the closest writing utensil.

_Dear Moony,_

_I did betray James and Lily but not in the way you think. I was never the secret keeper. It was Wormtail. I thought it would lead the Death Eaters off their trail if they were busy chasing me but I was wrong. He was the one who sold our friend out. I took Harry because I refuse to let Dumbledore give him to Petunia. You remember her. Attached is a photo of Harry. As you can see, he's fine. I'm not letting anyone take him from me. They'll have to pry him from my cold dead hands._

_— Padfoot_

Sirius grabbed the camera he bought to document Harry's growth and sat down on the floor. Harry toddled over to him chanting "dog, dog, dog."

"C'mere, pup," said the wizard scooping Harry into a hug. He held the camera at arm's length and snapped a photo of the two of them. Harry chose that time to find out if he could fit his entire fist in his mouth.

He could.

Sirius developed the photos that evening after Harry had gone to sleep. The crib had to be put in the closet but hopefully the boy wouldn't have to sleep in small spaces for the rest of his life. Perhaps when he was older he could actually sleep in his bedroom.

Several photos were included in the letter because really they were just too cute to share. Like the one where Harry was walking around with that big grin on his face. Or the one where he decided he wanted to try eating his food by himself. Sirius sent them out with the owl and went to bed. Like always, he couldn't sleep. His thoughts and stomach were flooded with guilt. If it weren't for him then Lily and James would be there for their son. They would be there to see him grow up. To hear him form sentences.

He could never replace them but he was going to give that kid the best damn childhood. The kind of childhood he never got to have.

 


End file.
